


Do Ultimate Mechanics dream of Auto Pitchers?

by souda_can



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-18 15:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11877636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/souda_can/pseuds/souda_can
Summary: When a bat shit insane woman asks you to build her death traps for your friends, you tend to say no. But when she has you and your friends bending to her every will, you say yes. Reluctantly.Or at least in the case of Kazuichi Souda, the Ultimate Mechanic.But then again, is killing a former love really reasonable? Even if you're insane yourself?Or maybe a case of kidnapping and cover up is needed....In the past, a younger Souda must deal with accusations from his classmates over a certain red haired baseballer and come to terms with how he really feels.Ships ahoy.





	1. Side: Present

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is my first Danganronpa fanfic, and basically I'm just trying to get back into writing again. Some chapters might be rushed like this one here (whoops) but I'll come back and fix them up later.   
> This fic is a mix of past and present chapters (alike to the third anime with the despair and future arcs) so the chapters will alternate between the school life of Class 77 and 78 and also during the Mutual Killing Game seen in the first game!  
> Souda is the main character because I'm a sucker for the boy but I will be incorporating his classmates in a bunch so I hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEAVY SPOILERS FOR DR 2 AND THE DR 3 ANIME !! DON'T READ THIS BEFORE THOSE.  
> Okay so this is my first Danganronpa fanfic, and basically I'm just trying to get back into writing again. Some chapters might be rushed like this one here (whoops) but I'll come back and fix them up later.   
> This fic is a mix of past and present chapters (alike to the third anime with the despair and future arcs) so the chapters will alternate between the school life of Class 77 and 78 and also during the Mutual Killing Game seen in the first game!  
> Souda is the main character because I'm a sucker for the boy but I will be incorporating his classmates in a bunch so I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1  
Side: Present

When Kazuichi Souda had first entered Hopes Peak Academy he had not expected that on his 20th Birthday he’d be approached by the Ultimate Fashion Idol and asked to build her a set of 15 Executions, all specially designed to kill his friends.

He’d expected even less that he’d agree to such an absurd and insane proposition.

But here he was, lounging comfortably back in his chair, with the Fashion Idol grinning down on him with that smile that could – to this day – be found on magazine covers. From her perch on the edge of the table, she swung her legs with the enthusiasm of a five-year-old, not the 19 year old crazed maniac she was. 

“So whatdya say? You up for the challenge?” Her voice had settled on a sing song like tone, but it would probably change again soon. The divas personality changed quicker than her wardrobe and Souda had to admit, it was a pain in the ass to talk to her sometimes.

He picked at a piece of rust on his trusty spanner, forcing a look of nonchalant onto his face. “Challenge? What challenge? This is easy, Junko. Give me a real project.” 

The pink haired Despair pouted at him. “But Souuuuuuuda, I need someone I can trust on this one! And this IS a big project. This isn’t your run of the mill, drowning, hanging, bashing witch trial execution, this is gonna be huge! Each one’s gonna be personalised, and full of total utter despair!!!” There it was, whatever personality this one was. It was too loud and excited for Souda’s taste – and ears.

Junko was practically shaking with excitement, hugging herself as if to try and contain her feelings. Her eyes were dazed and her mouth was practically drooling. Souda looked away in disgust, his pink brows knitting together into a thoughtful frown.

“What do you mean by personalised?” The words left his mouth involuntarily, his curiosity getting the better of him. This only prompted Junko’s wide grin to grow into a Cheshire cat smile - it was demonic and frightening. It made Souda smile himself. 

That was the thing about her curse. Once you were under it you started to think a little like her, feel and think like her. Enjoy despair like her. It was disgusting, a part of you always knows something is wrong, clings onto that part of humanity you once held. But it’s not like that part of you is anything more than just a voice in the back of your head.

Souda’s voice was screaming at him, telling him to sock that pink haired bitch in the face. To tell her to stick those plans where the sun don’t shine. To take this wrench and bludgeon her with it, or better yet-

“Personalised!! Like to everyone’s Ultimates duh! I’ve got all the plans drawn up already, so you don’t have to do the creative thinking part,” She winked at him like she was doing him some favour. “All you gotta do is make them all. I’ll get some of the others to go out and fetch you any materials you need.” She waved a hand in the air nonchalantly.

The others. She meant his classmates. His friends who’d fallen into despair with him.

They were just tools for Junko to get her way with the world. Can’t have a plan with no man power to carry them out, and his classmates had the perfect selection of Ultimates for Junko to use.

But they weren’t the only ones - Souda was a tool too. He was Junko’s favourite, she’d said that enough times, because of his ability to create basically anything. Of course, The Ultimate Despair had loved Sonia’s influence in taking over her whole country only to send it spiralling into mass chaos and rioting, as well as Mahirus ability to spread Despair with her beautiful images of said chaos.

But she’d picked Souda as her favourite, because with his Ultimate Mechanic title she’d found he was incredibly adept at creating huge robots. And even though she had a huge construction lines worth of Monokumas flowing out of Towa City, Souda could make then hundreds of times bigger and better. More than Monaca could promise her. And a little-known fact about Junko was that she loved Huge Robots of Mass Destruction. Therefore, Souda was her favourite little tool.

And of course, he was also incredibly useful to her in her current project. The Killing School Life. She needed someone to make her main events. The true icing on the cake. The despair.

The executions.

Junko pulled out a roll of blueprints from seemingly nowhere, and suddenly she was wearing those damn glasses as if she was about to lecture Souda in Quantum Physics – which knowing some of her moods, she might actually do. She hopped off the table, spreading the blue prints out in the spot she’d been sat, and motioned for Souda to come over. He left his seat with a sigh, and peered over her shoulder at the prints.

“What’s this then?” He asked, even though he could probably guess. Each blueprint had a picture of a student from Hopes Peak, along with their name and a set of sketches of some kind of machine or device.

On one, he could see ‘Aoi Asahina, the Ultimate Swimming Pro’ printed, along with a photo of a smiling brown-haired girl with wide blue eyes. Next to her photo was a drawing of what looked like a large… tank?

Another showed ‘Sayaka Maizono, the Ultimate Pop Sensation’, with a photo of a girl with long blue hair. This time the drawing showed a large stage and some kind of meter.

Sakura, Makoto, Hifumi. The names went on. Kiyotaka, Mondo, Chihiro, Byakuya, Hagakure, Kirigiri, Celeste, Toko…

His hand snatched up the last blueprint. Junko; apparently explaining in response to his previous question, actually shut up at this, a small smile making its way onto her face. “Find something?”

Souda didn’t respond, his eyes refusing to leave the piece of paper in his hands. No. This was bullshit. This was stretching even for her. She didn’t seriously think he would-

He smiled. 

Oh, the irony. The cruel, cruel irony. He could feel its icy grips covering him, taking him under again. Taking him into the inky black, numb abyss. The pain there was all he felt and it was welcoming. Such grief, such sadness. It was true and utter… despair.

His vision grew darker again, and he could feel himself chuckling against his will. It was a dry laugh, and it sounded so much unlike him. But he wasn’t in control anymore. It was. 

She was.

The piece of paper dropped out of his hands, and he was striding toward the door before he even knew what was happening. He heard Junko call after him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

His lips moved on his own, and with a voice completely devoid of any sanity he replied, “To work of course!”

........

The piece of paper lay discarded on the floor for many hours, slowly collecting dust. A pale face with a wide grin and fiery red hair looked up from the paper, and next to him the drawing that had sent Souda spiralling into despair once more.

An auto pitcher.

It just so happened that this exact model was his present on his 18th birthday.


	2. Side: Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I always find it ten times easier to write casual conversation rather than actual plot?? Anyways yeet this is a past chapter.

Chapter 2  
Side: Past

There’s a certain thing about fate that’s incredibly odd. It has its weird timing, its funny way of working. Its unexpected and never lets you have time to prepare.

In Souda’s case, he probably would’ve showered that morning or worn a slightly less oil stained pair of overalls if he’d known fate was working its magic that day.

However he didn’t know that, so he was dressed in his usual bright blue overalls and beanie, his hair scruffly tucked into his hat, as he left class for lunch. He hung back of the group to walk next to Sonia, the Ultimate Princess – or Ultimate Dream Girl as dubbed by him – as she chatted excitedly to Ibuki, the Ultimate Musician. Souda wasn’t really listening to either of them but he liked to pretend to be a part of their conversation for whatever reason. He thought if Sonia saw him around enough she might think fondly of him but… it wasn’t really working. 

“I’ve heard there’s an Ultimate Martial Artist joining! You think he’s gonna give Nekomaru and Akane a run for their money?” Ibuki grinned a wide smile, and for a second Souda almost thought her cheek piercings would pop out. They didn’t, thankfully.

Sonia, smiled back, shifting her books in her arms. “No doubt about it.” She said, with her stilted English accent. Her English was perfect it just never flowed ‘quite right’ in a sentence, with an air of poshness that made it sound a little forced. That made her all the more unique in Souda’s eyes.

Noticing an opportunity to gain some brownie points Souda quickly cut into the conversation, “H-hey Sonia do you need help with those books I-“ He was quickly cut off by a loud shout from behind.

“Yo! Chick with the pink hair, looking gooood!” 

Souda, Ibuki and Sonia all stopped at the boy’s voice, turning around sharply to see the commotion. However, there weren’t many people in the hall behind as most had already escaped to lunch, which left a group of two boys and a girl. One of the boys was a red head with a small matching goatee, clad in practically all white, his hands were cupped around his mouth, so it was pretty safe to assume he was the culprit. The other boy wore a long black trenchcoat, and his hair was styled into a long brown quiff. Souda assumed the two boys were friends, or at least, in the same class. The girl tugged on the taller boy’s jacket sleeve, giggling loudly. The girl had shoulder length brown hair and wore a simple brown skirt and a green cardigan. It seemed none of them were wearing Hopes Peaks Uniform, which wasn’t too uncommon, since it wasn’t exactly mandatory.

Although it felt like a few minutes, in actuality it took all of half a millisecond for everyone’s eyes to zero in on Souda, realising he was the Pink Haired Chick in question.

Realising some dude had just called him a chick – a good looking one at that – and that everyone was staring at him, his face flushed a bright shade of red as he grabbed his beanie to pull it low over his eyes. 

“H-hey what the hell man?! I’m not some chick!!” He stammered out under his beanie protective shield, completely mortified that he’d been mistaken for some girl. This had never, ever happened before. Sure some people had asked why he’d gone for pink of all colours to die his hair and why he wore eyeliner but… This was a whole new low.

The red-haired boy who’d done the cat-calling paled for a second, realising why the small girl had been giggling – for she had realised it way before he had - and then resumed a shade of red similar to Souda. 

“Oh my god I am so sorry dude.” The boy strode forward, his hand outreached. When Souda refused to remove his hands from his beanie, he let his hand drop to his side. “I uh, I only got to see you from behind if that helps?”

“THAT DOESN’T HELP AT ALL.” Souda choked out, albeit it a little loudly. What was this guy insinuating?? Had he been looking at his ass? Did he have a woman’s ass??

During this whole ordeal Ibuki and Sonia had taken a few steps back, their giggles quiet, but unmistakeable.

“Oh uh god, shit, I am so sorry dude I really am. It was Mondo’s fault he told me to go for it, I mean.” The red head jutted a finger back at his other friend, the boy in the long jacket. The boy in question shook his head furiously, refusing the accusation. “Haaaaaaaaaaaah…..”

There was an awkward silence filled only with the giggling from the two girls, as Souda refused to speak. Clearly his throat loudly, the boy tried again, “The names uh, Leon. Leon Kuwata. And you?”

Souda cautiously dropped his hands from his beanie, shoving them into his pockets. “The names Kazuichi Souda. And it’s not a girl’s name I think you’ll find.”

The boy – Leon, let out a short chuckle at that. “Yeah yeah, I figured that. Look I really am sorry, you look nothing like a chick up close. But the hairs super rad man, I might have to think about going pink myself after this.” He brushed a hand through his own spiky red hair. “Hey uh, you a first year too? I don’t think I’ve seen you around yet.”

Souda blinked a few times, confused by the sudden change in atmosphere. Leon had just become ten times comfier around him and some of the awkwardness in the air shifted. He shook his head. “No, actually. I’m a Class 78th student. So you’re a 77 then?”

“Yeah man! Me, Mondo and Chihiro are all in the same class too. Guess that makes you our senior or something.” Leon grinned a wide toothy grin, and Souda smiled back. Suddenly a pair of hands were grabbing at his face and he resisted the urge to shriek loudly. “Holy shit man wait!”

Souda wasn’t entirely sure what was happening right now but this guy he’d just met was pushing his lips apart with his thumbs to stare right at his teeth, and it wasn’t exactly what he’d call a ‘comfortable situation’.

“Holy shit!! You have like shark teeth? Man, that is so rad how did you do that? How much did that hurt?!” Leons words were flying out of his mouth and Souda realised for the first time that this dude was taller than him despite being younger. It wasn’t much of a height difference but enough that Souda was left looking up at him as his face continued to be squished and inspected.

Leon finally stopped asking questions, and gave the pink haired boy an expectant look as if he wanted to answer, and all Souda could do in response was shrug. He still had thumbs in his mouth afterall. Leon quickly apologised and removed his hands, wiping them on the sides of his black jeans.  
“Sorry about that man,” He said with a short chuckle.

Souda just smiled back awkwardly and waved it off. “It’s cool, really. It happens… a lot actually. Hah” He forced out a nervous chuckle. It wasn’t that he was anxious over his teeth, it was… well no that was it. They did give him anxiety. Cause people either loved them or thought he was a freak for it. And with that kind of 50/50 odds you tended to develop some kind of insecurity.

Leon looked around the hall, and at this motion Souda realised that the corridor was extremely quiet. This snapped him out of his dazed bubble, suddenly panicked that Ibuki and Sonia were gone. What were they gonna say to the others?? Leon seemed to notice his panic and stepped in again. “Hey uh, do you usually sit with anyone at lunch?”

Even he knew that was a stupid question, and Souda quickly interjected, defending himself. “Of course! I have friends ya kno-“

“Cool! You can come sit with me. We better hurry before lunch ends.” Leon was already striding down the hall and Souda stood there dumbfounded. Things were too confusing around that boy. They went from 0-60 and back again in two seconds. One second he was talking about his hair and the next he was accusing him of having no friends.

Souda shook his head and sprinted down the corridor after his new red headed friend.

Things were sure to get interesting this year.

........

In the lunch hall Ibuki and Sonia had joined the others at their usual table at the back of the cafeteria, the one by the big open windows. It wasn’t uncommon for them to sit as a class, especially since Chisa – their teacher – had brought them all together last year. The only people missing from their table was Akane Owari, the Ultimate Gymnast, Nekomaru Nidai, the Ultimate Team Manager, Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer, and Souda.

Akane was somewhere in the kitchen, sneaking more food from Teruteru Hanamuras premade supply, much to his annoyance. Nekomaru was in the bathroom after loudly shouting something about shit, five minutes before. Chiaki was god knows where, but she was probably playing on her GameGirl wherever she was.

And Ibuki and Sonia knew where Souda was, since they’d abandoned him there to get to lunch before Akane could wipe out the school’s food supply. Ibuki was practically twitching in her seat at this point since Souda had been gone way too long. He knew what Akane could – and would – do to that kitchen.

“Hey Sonia, you don’t think that guy actually decided to ask Souda out on the spot do ya?” Ibuki asked the blonde-haired girl on her left.

More than just Sonia’s head turned at that.

“Kazuichi got a date?” Teruteru’s voice all but shouted. This must’ve been some lucky day. If that boy could get a date then maybe there was a hope for him… He slid down into his seat, the fantasies already playing in front of his eyes.

Of course, Teruteru’s exclamation had gotten the attention of the rest of the table, and suddenly everyone was looking straight at Ibuki. She raised her hands in a defensive position. “Hey! That’s not what Ibuki said!”  
Sonia put a finger to her chin appearing to think deeply. “It is true that Souda may have been caught off guard with the accusations and made very easily susceptible to a kind of lust spell. It is not impossible that he is already lost to us.”

Suddenly a dark figure was looming over the two girls, and Ibuki had to whip her head out of the way to avoid getting hit with a long scarf. “Lust spell you say? Those are not uncommon in the demon realm. However, have you considered a curse instead? Those are much easier to concoct given you have the correct blood pre-prepared.”

“Oh for fucks sake Gundham no one’s cast a damn spell or curse.” Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu’s voice spoke up from the end of the table. He kicked his legs up onto the table effortlessly. “He’s just late.”

However, this didn’t deter Gundham Tanaka as he reached inside his jacket for his four pet hamsters – or Four Dark Devas of Destruction as he called them – only to place them on the middle of the table a safe distance away, and began drawing some kind of intricate pentagram into the hard wood. 

“Gundham you shouldn’t do that. Last time you did this you pissed off that one janitor and he told the principal.” Mahiru Koizomi said, her head sinking into her palm. “You’re going to get us all in trouble.”

“Am I the only one who’s happy for Souda? This is a wonderful day for him, it looks like his luck is beginning to change,” Said a voice that no one noticed, or perhaps were ignoring. The boy shook his head in dismay, his white hair bouncing wildly.

“Fear not mortal, for we can cover this ritual with a simple tablecloth and no one will be the wiser,” Gundham proudly announced, dismissing Mahiru with a brief wave of his hand. A few of the students at nearby tables looked over at his booming voice, already visibly edging away.

Ibuki stood up waving her hands. “Don’t mind us! We’re not doing anything. Nothing dangerous here!!”

Somehow the students paled a little further at that.

The table quickly dissolved into chaos, as Gundham produced candles and a liquid that looked a little too pink not to be suspicious, Sonia wasn’t exactly helping stop him, Ibuki was standing guard shouting about how ‘nothing’s happening, don’t call security!’, Fuyuhiko was no help either as his only interjection into the situation was the occasional profanity filled statement and Peko sat silently beside him, Mikan Tsumiki stood over Teruteru attempting to wake him out of his dazed state, Nagito Komaeda was off on some rant about hope and luck and the joys of it all, Mahiru kept her face planted firmly in her hands, refusing to acknowledge this was happening – again, Midarai appeared to be helping Gundham with his demon ritual as he became increasingly agitated with the animal breeder’s messy patterns, and Hiyoko…

“Wait a second, didn’t you say ‘guy’? Wouldn’t that make Souda ga-“ Mahiru punched the blonde haired girl in the shoulder before she could finish. It wasn’t hard - the Photographer didn’t have the heart to really hurt her friend - but Hiyoko let out a wounded yelp. “Hey! I can only assume after what Ibuki Said!”

“Well you shouldn’t make assumptions about our friends.” Mahiru replied with her usual lecturing tone.

It was true that the thought of Souda being gay was pretty preposterous, given his current obsession with one Sonia Nevermind, although even Mahiru couldn’t shake the idea that it wasn’t entirely implausible…

And so the chaos at the table continued, with the students nearby becoming increasingly agitated by the antics of Class 2-B. That was until- “Hey it’s the man of the damn hour.” It was Fuyuhiko’s voice that shut the group up and they all stopped in their tracks to look where he was staring. 

Their eyes were on the cafeteria doors where, sure enough, Souda was striding in. However, he wasn’t alone. A boy slightly taller than him with bright red hair was walking in alongside him. In fact, his arm was wrapped around Souda’s head in a relaxed kind of choke hold. They were both grinning, as they walked in, heading to the other end of the lunch room, looking for a vacant table. 

Souda didn’t even so much as glance in the direction of his classmates. If he had though, he would have seen a series of shocked faces staring back.

There was an eerie silence as Souda and the new boy sat at a table, laughing audibly across the hall. The rest of his class sat watching for a few moments.

“It appears the curse is far stronger than I have previously anticipated. We must get back to work!”


	3. Side: Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me so long I'm sorry guys!! College has just started for me as well as a new job and also I'm having to make two cosplays from scratch for a con in a month *sad face*  
> But hey ho Past will be next ;3

Chapter 3

Side: Present

He wasn’t exactly sure what time it was, or even what day it was. All he was aware of was that people were visiting less and less as time went on. And that insulted him slightly. 

At the start people had at least stuck around to talk, to kick around and make light conversation. Now they just dropped off parts and left, without even saying a word. It made him wonder what was so unlikeable about him that it drove his friends away. Or maybe it was that he was no longer useful to them, too busy with his current projects.

Or maybe they were jealous of all the attention Miss Enoshima was giving him.

Despite this, he trudged on through his work, using his annoyance as further fuel to spur him on, even when the days dragged out into night and he lost all track of time itself. He wasn’t sure when he’d last slept. Or eaten. Or drank anything for that matter.

None of that really mattered. As long as he could still move and work he was in good enough condition.

The piles of metal grew, forming large mangled structures, so dreadfully disgusting to look at it was almost hypnotising. They almost looked like abstract art pieces, the kind you’d find in museums. Except no one wanted to look at these, and it wasn’t like people went to museums anymore. 

And they weren’t art. 

The intent of these pieces were clear, if you looked closely enough. All of them had centrepieces were something – or someone – was to be upon, and the structures built up around that. There were trap doors, large stages, tanks, steam rollers. All the ways you could kill a person were right here.

And it was frighteningly beautiful. 

The sight of it all struck fear right into his very own blackened soul, and as the creator of these machines he knew the full potential of these destructive devices. He knew the pain these students would go through in their final moments, as they stood at the centre of a stage of death. As they awaited flattening, beating, burning, drowning, being eaten alive…

As their friends all watched. Unable to help.

_She stumbled toward a door with a large red illuminated ‘exit’ sign hanging above it. She smiled, a look of hope and determination crossing her face, even though the motion appeared to cause her further pain. She held her shoulder and continued shuffling forward, her right eye bloodstained and swollen shut._

_He remembered holding the hand of someone next to him, he wasn’t sure who’s. The group cheered as a whole as they stared up at the screens where their classmate slowly made her way to freedom. She was going to be okay, she’d beaten that pink haired girls game._

_Someone hugged him, he wrapped his own arms around them too, too distracted in the moment to really care who it was. To be embarrassed to be showing any kind of affection to his classmates._

_The girl on screen had a hand on the door, pushing her way inside with her good shoulder. White light spilled out into the darkened halls. She’d made it, she was out._

_None of the students were sure what their classmate saw in her final moments, but she reached out a hand as she stepped through the door, a look of relief and pure joy painting itself on her bloodstained features._

_And then it was gone, replaced by confusion and betrayal as a javelin was suddenly through her shoulder, sending her flying to the floor. It was too quick, too sudden, none of them had time to react_.

_There was a second that felt like a million where he felt himself drop to his knees, his eyes glued to the screen. In this moment he knew before it happened._

_Chiaki Nanami was a dead girl._

_And the spikes appeared up from the floor she was sprawled on, impaling her in a dozen places. The tips of the spears stained pink with her blood, jutting out of her body at awkward angles. There was too many, there was no coming back from that._

_The spikes slid out of her, back into the floor from which they came, and her body hit the floor with a final thump._

_Everything else was eerily quiet. There was no more crying, no shouts of anger._

_They all watched – stared - at their fallen friend’s limp body. She didn’t get up like the previous times, pink blood leaking out of her body and spreading across the floor._

_They were all hypnotised by the sight. It was like a train crash you couldn’t look away from._

They’d been unable to help. Just like these new students would be.

Except Junko didn’t want new tools, she wouldn’t be using these deaths as hypnotism material, no, just punishment. He supposed that was a better fate than what befell him and his friends. 

Despite being an Ultimate Despair he could still hate what he was. Hate the fact he enjoyed making machines capable of murder and torture, hate the giant 20 storey tall monokuma that was currently rampaging through cities, hate… himself. Hate himself for enjoying it all. 

But that inner hate only spurred on further despair which in turn made him happier and it was just an endless loop of self loathing. It was just best not to dwell on that now. 

He paused in his work, realising how close to finishing he was. Most of the machines were done. He’d been given a list of 15, including an execution for Junko which he didn’t really get but he wasn’t going to ask questions. He was working on the last few now, the rest standing in various degrees of calculated dismantlement around his current warehouse he’d claimed as a work shop. Most of the structures couldn’t be put together fully, mainly for the fact he still had to transport them and he wasn’t sure how many times he could put them together and take them apart and stay sane.

As much as he loved assembling and disassembling machines, this was just too much

There was bang as the door to the warehouse swung open, hitting the wall adjacent. Souda dropped the spanner in his hand with a reluctant sigh. He swore to god if this was Enoshima he wouldn’t restrain from shouting at her this time for interrupting his work for the umpteenth time.

His mouth already open, ready to shout his best insult yet, he was almost startled to see a much shorter form walking through the darkness. This meant two things, Junko was preoccupied for now, and he needed to set up some kind of lighting in here because damn his friend made an ominous sight in the dark. 

Souda jumped to his feet, in the process nearly falling over the device he was working on. He quickly scrambled to lean on a tall sheet of metal to make it seem like the motion was oh so totally casual, but the shorter man just shook his head at him.

“You clutz.” His voice didn’t suit his young appearance, seeming too deep for such a baby face. 

With wide eyes and dimpled cheeks, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu grinned up at Souda. Fuyuhiko was one of Souda’s longest friends from the academy. He’d been the first to get along with, and they’d bonded over being the two most normal in their class. Despite Souda’s punk appearance, and Kuzuryuu’s stern”fuck off” aura, they considered each other to be the most regular in their class of characters. 

“Hey I’m no clutz. Go talk to Tsumiki if you want clutzy.” Souda stood straighter and outreached a hand to ruffle the blondes short hair, specifically cause he knew it’d tick him off. 

Fuyuhiko moved out of the way with a grunt, his smile not shifting though. “I’m not here to talk to Tsumiki. And even if I wanted to, I have no idea where she’s at. She’s completely gone rogue like Komaeda.”

“Gone rogue, like, on the side of hope? Or just run off and playing things on her own?” One of them turning to Hope could completely screw them all over. They were all assumed dead, but if one of them handed over a list of names and faces to Future Foundation, there’d be more than a target on their backs.

The Yakuza shrugged at that. “Who knows? I doubt it though, she’s too loyal to Enoshima. And us I suppose. I’d be more worried about Komaeda but we all know he’s just playing some shit with Junkos little devil spawn.”

Souda cocked an eyebrow. “You sure he’s still there? I mean I don’t know about you but he doesn’t seem the type to really sit down and wait for hope to come around.”

Fuyuhiko’s grin took on a level of cockiness. “What do I say? I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, of course he’s still in Towa City.”

The pink haired boy shook his head, playing with a bolt he wasn’t entirely sure where he’d gotten. “That’s not creepy at all dude. I feel like you’re gonna come watch me in my sleep or something, snipe me out.” He made a gun motion with his fingers, aiming it at his own skull.

“I’d only do that for good reason.” 

Fuyuhiko’s voice carried an air of truth, despite his jokey tone. Souda knew he could and would put his men on him if he needed to.

If Souda betrayed them.

The class didn’t have any rules. Sure, they took the occasional order from Enoshima but otherwise they could cause as little or as much chaos as they so pleased. But if anyone wanted to disrupt that chaos, maybe betray them all to the side of hope? It was an unspoken rule that that someone would be no more. 

Souda didn’t want to know what would happen to that poor soul. And he didn’t want to be them either.

He involuntarily shivered. 

“Hey chill out Kazuichi, you know I’m joking. I’ve got better things to do than send my men to watch you night after night.” His signature grin appeared afresh and Souda flashed a fanged smile back. “Actually one of those better things is waiting outside.” Fuyuhiko continued.

Before Souda could ask, the door reopened and a figure stepped in, pushing a large flat trolley in front of them. The trolley wasn’t empty however, carrying a big object that was covered lazily in a tarp. 

He raised a quizzical eyebrow at Fuyuhiko, before they narrowed in disappointment. “You didn’t just come to talk did you?”

The Yakuza shrugged. “I’m just following orders, but the catching up is good too.” 

Souda felt his right eye twitch in annoyance. Of course. No one came to visit him out of their free will. They really did just stop caring about him. He was just another person they had to do jobs for, delivering him parts whenever Enoshima said so.

When did his friends stop being his friends?

The figure from before stepped forward, but Fuyuhiko raised a hand and they paused. Souda didn’t need any light to recognise Peko Pekoyama, in fact he probably could have guessed it was her if he was blindfolded. She stepped too quietly, almost silent. It was like she was weightless. It was one of her tells.

The other was that she was always at Fuyuhiko’s side.

“Thank you Peko. I’ll meet you outside,” The boy in question said, his voice cutting through the silence. The grey haired girl’s piercing eyes widened, as if he had just said some shocking proposal – maybe she hadn’t been expecting to be dismissed so easily - but she quickly regained her confident composure. 

Her back straightened, and she spun around, quickly leaving the warehouse again, her footsteps barely audible in the booming silence.

“Well that wasn’t rude or anything.” The words left Souda’s lips before he’d even processed the thought, and Fuyuhiko visibly winced, the dimple in his left cheek twitching. 

“I said thank you, what else do ya want?” His words were harsh, dismissive. Guilty even.

Souda wrinkled his nose, folding his arms. ‘“Thank you’ doesn’t mean it wasn’t rude. You get her to do your carrying and then you dismiss her like th-“

“Your carrying. We’re bringing in  _your_  shit.” Fuyuhiko interrupted, his gaze suddenly intense and accusatory. 

Souda clenched his jaw. “I didn’t ask for this. Enoshima did. She’s the one sending you out for parts. Don’t put the blame on me.”

The Yakuza’s harsh look was suddenly replaced with a smile. Souda could feel his heart sink at the sight. Something in Fuyuhiko’s eyes just didn’t look… right. 

“But this  _is_  your shit.”

And then he was moving away, walking toward the tarp covered mound. The pink haired boy didn’t move to stop him, stuck in place with a mixture of confusion, curiosity and the sick feeling that something very bad was about to happen. 

He wasn’t exactly wrong. 

Fuyuhiko grabbed a corner of the tarp, flinging it off in a wide gesture like a magician revealing a trick to an audience. Except the only audience was Souda, and the trick was…

“You’re fucking kidding me.” It took a moment for the sight to really sink in, but when it did he felt the similar pang in his stomach, the darkness that hung at the corner of his vision. 

“Now look who’s the rude one. I bring you a present and you start mouthing me off. Appreciate it really.” Fuyuhiko folded his arms, his air of self confidence back once more as he smirked up at Souda.

He felt the pain in his stomach change to nausea, thick and bubbling with fear. Suddenly all friendly tone he had with his friend was gone. He was scared. 

“Where did you get this?” Souda’s voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper. He knew the answer but he had to ask. For the off chance…

“Where do you think? Yeah we just found it lying in the street and figured it was yours Kazuichi.” There was a sneer to his tone, the sarcasm just dripping, not even trying to be concealed.

Souda felt the darkness creep in, clouding his vision in a dark haze as his friend became the sole thing in his view. His mind was swirling at the mix of fear, betrayal and and and… Despair. It was there again, sliding its icy grips into his brain and into his thoughts. 

_They all knew. They all knew Souda’s weakness. It was only a matter of time._

_A matter of time until they told her._

_And what would she do? It was probably easier to wonder what she wouldn’t do. She wouldn’t let him go free. That was for certain._

_No she’d torment him. She’d wave it in his face and push him to the brink of mind numbing despair again and again and again and again…_

When his vision refocused his hand was wrapped around Fuyuhiko’s neck, the shorter boys own hands grabbing at him, trying to push him off. At some point he’d slammed the Yakuza against the wall, where he was currently pinned. 

Souda took a few moments to process the sight, his friend struggling, gasping for breath in pathetic wheezes, his fingers scratching at his own hand. It was futile really. The boy was a lot smaller than the Mechanic, having never actually had to work out a day in his life or even lift a finger. Whereas Souda had been working with machinery for years. Lifting heavy sheets of metal, helping his dad with any of his projects around the shop. Building giant robot bears to rampage through cities.

He dropped his hand, suddenly snapping back to reality. What the hell. How’d he even get here? Why hadn’t he stopped sooner??

Fuyuhiko coughed, suddenly doubled over as he sucked in deep breaths. Souda reached out a hand and the other boy knocked it away. 

Trying not to be offended by that small gesture but then reminding himself he’d just put the guy in that position, Souda took a few steps back, his hand automatically running itself through his hair. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he strangling his friends now? 

Why wasn’t he helping?

_Because he felt it. The giddy feeling that fed off what he’d just done. The part of him that wanted to laugh because he’d just hurt his closest friend._

_Because he’d nearly killed him._

He scrunched his eyes shut, ignoring the whispers of the cold voices as he just tried to process the fact he was now spacing out and trying to kill his friends. If there was a Psychiatrist who’d see him they’d have a field day with this. 

“His room.” The shorter boys voice was quiet, raspier than usual. He coughed before continuing. “We snuck in while they were down for breakfast. Enoshima showed us a way in.”

Souda opened his eyes again to see Fuyuhiko had practically regained his composure, a hand fussing with the tight collar of his shirt. His face was pale, and the Mechanic felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

“The students don’t know about the entrance. Or maybe they do, who fucking knows? But they wouldn’t leave anyway because of what they knows outside. But after the wipe they won’t know for sure, so we’re using it for practice right now.” Fuyuhiko continued, his eyes staring into Souda’s, as if he was trying to drive a hole through to his brain.

“You’re talking about Hopes Peak?” It was a useless question, he already knew the answer. What other high schools would they be sneaking into?

“Of course. But they’re being kept in the old building. Ya remember the shitty five story place on campus? Yeah there.” There was a certain sneer in his tone, like he was lecturing Souda.

The boy wasn’t about to complain after he’d just nearly killed him. “Yeah I remember. We spent our first year there. Guess they couldn’t exactly use the new building with everything that happened.”

_A sickening crash from a classroom nearby. Laughter in the halls that sounded just too animal to be human. The sound of running footsteps._

_The sound of death._

“Sounds about right I guess. Anyway Class 78 are there.” His tone faltered for a second, betraying him. He seemed scared almost. “All of them.”

There was a moment when Souda wasn’t sure how to respond to that one. He could’ve used a sarcastic ‘yay’ or even just nodded. But in reality he was coming to terms with the fact Enoshima was dead serious with her plans. She’d rounded them up in one place and she was going to get them to kill eachother. And she was using Souda to punish them for it.

And her blueprints were confirmation enough so he wasn’t entirely sure why he was only coming to terms with it now.

Especially with this new machine sat literally a few feet away… The one Fuyuhiko had snuck into Hope’s Peak to get for him.

An auto pitcher. The same very one he’d made just over a year ago. If he turned it over he’d probably find his signature on it, along with the ‘happy birthday’ he’d shoddily written into the side. But he didn’t need to see the writing to know it was his work. He could tell immediately. 

Cause no one made auto pitchers fit for 1000 baseballs.

It had clearly been used, given the fact that there was no dust littering its surface and it was nearly all out of balls. The metal was rusting in some places with slight age but otherwise it had been well looked after. 

So he  _had_  kept it. 

“Oh.” Was what he finally said in response to his friend. His gaze was trapped on the pitcher, and Fuyuhiko looked over as well.

“You know he didn’t hide it. It was right there. Just in the open.” It appeared the Yakuza had lost all trace of his previous tone, seemingly forgetting about the incident for now. “It almost seemed like he liked baseball again.”

There was a pang of… _something_  in Souda’s stomach. An emotion he couldn’t quite place. Guilt, joy, sadness, triumph. He wasn’t sure. But something about Fuyuhiko’s words struck a cord in him. 

It planted an idea in his head. A very, very bad one. 

He was going to pay Leon Kuwata a visit.


End file.
